3 Bloody Mary's and a Double Scotch on the Rocks
by Ansketil
Summary: Harry really shouldn't sneak into bars at night... Perhaps he shouldn't have introduced himself to the wierdo guy wearing black. C'mon you know who I am! The barman is worried. Harry can only remember a green traffic light, and Voldie has hiccups.
1. 3 Bloody Mary's and a Double Scotch etc

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this little piece of fictional writing. They belong to the great J.K.R. She alone created them. I'm just having fun with them- especially Voldemort- he, he, he!  
  
Author's Note: My first attempt at comedy, so be kind. This was originally a little bit of impromptu theatre. My friend Nile Queen and I were on a sugar high.  
  
Harry slipped off the invisibility cloak. The silvery material was caked in snow. Harry shook it out. Then he tucked his father's cloak under his arm. Harry's green eyes became slits as he glanced left and right to make sure no one was watching. Pulling his robes closer to keep out the cold, Harry Potter stepped into the pub.  
  
Lord Voldemort smiled from under his dark hood. His long white digits gripped the Bloody Mary tightly. Oh bliss. Here he was in this delightful hidey-hole, no one knew, he could simply enjoy a quiet drink. Yes, he would definitely come here again.  
  
Harry brushed his unruly hair over his scar. If anyone knew he was here.! This place was worse than the Hog's Head! Harry looked round for a place to sit. All the seats were taken. Cigarette smoke wafted over. Harry wiped his eyes and looked again. Wait. There was a seat next to a guy in a black cloak at the bar.  
  
The Dark Lord blinked. Maybe he shouldn't have ordered that third Bloody Mary. But he never got drunk. Well. *almost never*- there was that *one* time.  
  
Harry Potter blinked. OK. perhaps the double Scotch on the rocks wasn't such a great idea. But it sounded so cool when he said it, "Oh, I'll have a double Scotch on the rocks," what did "on the rocks" mean anyway? Harry turned to the person next to him who was staring sadly at an empty cocktail glass.  
  
"Wass on da ocks mean?" The man stared at him as if trying to remember some difficult potions recipe. "It meanss the tide'sss out..." Through the blanket of alcohol Harry's brain was desperately seeking his attention.  
  
"How'd you get that mark on your head?" The man sounded confused. Harry thought really hard. All he could remember was.green. What was green.?  
  
"A traffic light exploded on me," it sounded reasonable. "Are you sssure?" The man in the cloak sounded taken aback. "Yep, it killed ma dad an' mammy toooo." Harry was confused. "So. wasss your name then?" The stranger looked familiar somehow. "Haaairy, what'd'ya say yours was?" The man in black started to giggle, a high pitched, cold giggle. "Aw. c'mon you know who I am," Harry thought hard..."Nah!" The man grinned. "Yesss, you do!"  
  
The Bartender walked over. He'd worked here long enough to know when a fight was coming, and these two looked like each other's nemesis. "Oi, you gonna pay for those drinks?!" The tall one smiled, Gordie swallowed, *those were sharp canines*, "C-c-cos they aren't free y'know!"  
  
The small one giggled. "He's a *vampire*, I saw his eyes.!" The tall man gave a small hiss and fell off his stool. The small one- he looked like he was just a kid- laughed and jumped on top. Gordie stood there thinking. Ordinarily he'd just chuck them out. but there was something about the vampire that made his blood run cold.  
  
Harry pushed the man out onto the snow. He had vague ideas about pelting him with snowballs. but his arms didn't want to work. The man hissed, then gave a little hiccup. Soon they were both lying face down in the snow.  
  
"Sssooo. was the ting with da affic light?"  
  
"I tol' you. it expowloded!"  
  
"You ssshor it didn't. didn't. didn't. Kadav thingy?"  
  
"Wot ya mean. why was ooo dere anyhow? You made it plode!"  
  
"Nooo I didn't! I died!"  
  
"What wosat like?"  
  
"It was like... pain beyon. beyond. thingy." "Wooow."  
  
Harry's eyes glazed over. He rolled over so he was facing the prone man. It was cold. Harry snuggled into the warmth. The man hiccupped again. His hands were freezing! Harry snuggled further into the warm, black robes.  
  
".Ohh. that's got be worse than the Cruciatus Curse!" After swearing profusely (which just made the headache worse) Harry rolled over in bed. A MAN WAS SLEEPING beside him! The man was snuggled up under silky black sheets.  
  
"Hello. umm. what am I doing here?" Harry shook the man's shoulders, very thin, bony shoulders. Then the strange man sat up. "Bellatrix, remind me never to get drunk again!" Harry's jaw dropped, *he was in a bed with Voldemort!!* Large red eyes stared at him in confusion. "I thought I was the only one with a detachable jaw," Then the Dark Lord seemed to recover from the shock, if not the hangover.  
  
"May I asssk why I'm in a bed with The Boy Who Lived?" Harry didn't know what to say. Lord Voldemort seemed just as horrified as he was. "Umm. I seem to remember. traffic lights?" The Dark Lord then demonstrated that he did, in fact, have a detachable jaw. "*Traffic lights*" "Yeah," Harry wasn't even sure where *that* came from.  
  
Just then, someone knocked on the door. "My Lord, may I enter?" One of Voldemort's pale, spidery hands shot out and, after fumbling around on his bedside table and knocking over a bottle of snake venom, grasped his wand. "Verra Felina," Harry felt his body changing. His hands suddenly weren't hands anymore. They were. paws?"  
  
Bellatrix opened the door. She was wearing a blood red slip and an unidentifiable wispy thing made of black lace. Voldemort clutched the white Persian cat tightly, softly caressing the cat's head with his long fingernails. "My Lord. I didn't know you liked cats," Bellatrix killed Sirius, Harry kept thinking. She tried to stroke Harry's fur. He hissed and gave her a scratch across the face. The Dark Lord gave his servant a dark smile. "Oh. I'm getting on *marvellously* with this particular specimen. I think I'll keep him."  
  
A/N- If you would like to hear about the further adventures of The Cat Who Lived please review and tell me so. 


	2. The Cat Who Was Horrified

Three Bloody Mary's and a Double Scotch on the Rocks  
The Sequel  
  
Disclaimer: Um. I really wanted to do a classy, rude disclaimer, but I can't think of one- SO just PRETEND I have. By the way, in case you didn't know, I don't own this.  
  
Author's Note: Back by popular demand (two reviews actually, but you've got to start somewhere!) is The Cat Who Lived! You can applaud NOW. By the way- My friend Nile Queen was scandalised when she heard I'd put this on the net (she was Harry) and begged me to remove it. Luckily she doesn't read ff otherwise I'd REALLY be in trouble! So I want lots of purrs.  
  
Harry stared at himself in the mirror. He was stunned, no, he wasn't, HE WAS A CAT! Green feline eyes stared back at him. Suddenly he was yanked upwards. Gloved hands hoisted him roughly into the folds of a silky cloak.  
  
"I had no idea our Lord liked cats," said the voice of the man who'd picked Harry up. Tendrils of blond hair hit Harry in the face. He reached out to catch them. "Who's an adorable little pussy?"  
  
Harry found himself face to face with the notorious Lucius Malfoy. Lucius reached for the jewelled cat collar. "Harry?" Lucius mumbled, "I see My Lord is developing a sense of humour. Come Draco!"  
  
Harry climbed up onto Mr. Malfoy's shoulder. A much smaller figure in Death Eater robes was staring at him. Harry stuck out his tongue and hissed at him. Draco retaliated by giving the white Persian a very rude gesture with his fingers, unfortunately Lucius turned round at the very moment.  
  
"Draco! What do you mean by the obscene gesture? *Never* do that again!"  
  
"Yes, Father," came a meek voice from under the hood.  
  
Draco was scared. This was his first meeting, his initiation night. That angry fleabag didn't help. Draco wasn't even sure he wanted to be a Death Eater; there were plenty of other things for a boy to do rather than serve a psychopathic Dark Lord. The other thing bothering Draco was. *were the initiation rumours true?*  
  
Just then, there was a swishing of cloaks, and a piecing scream. Harry jumped to the ground in fright. "Rookwood, you complete bastard! You always apparate on my foot!  
  
"Shut up, Jugson!"  
  
"Well you do!"  
  
"Do what?" said a high, cold voice. Everyone in the room snapped to attention and bowed. Harry tried to make his way through the crowd of Death Eaters and out the door. But a white cat in a black room does not tend to camouflage.  
  
Harry came face to face with a hungry Nagini. "Ssoo, what you've got to assk yoursself iss-am I feeling lucky?"  
  
"Accio cat!" With a howl, Harry flew backwards and hit the Dark Lord hard in the chest, completely bowling the immortal Lord Voldemort over.  
  
"Sorry, My Lord, you were standing in the way," said the rather embarrassed voice of Lucius Malfoy. Muffled laughter flew once round the room before turning into a coughing epidemic. Voldemort stood up, snatching Harry up into his arms. "Do you find something amusing?" The tone of the Dark Lords voice was like a whip, lashing down on his slaves.  
  
Someone sneezed. Voldemort whipped round to face the unfortunate Death Eater. "You. Snape. find this funny?" Voldemort hissed. The Potions Master mumbled something about an allergy.  
  
"Now, my servants, tonight we welcome another into our fold," The Dark Lord said, seating himself on a silver throne "Fresh from Hogwarts (sneeze) Draco Malfoy." Lucius pushed his son forward. Draco stared at the floor. He shivered. Harry suddenly felt sorry for Draco. He tried to break free from Voldemort, but the Dark Lord had a grip of iron.  
  
The meeting progressed slowly. Snape was horrified with himself. Stupid cat! Voldemort *knew* he was allergic to them. ". To defeat Dumbledore." The Dark Lord was informing his servants of his plan when.Snape sneezed again. Voldemort stood up. "If you cannot control yourself Snape, I will *discipline* you."  
  
Snape closed his eyes, waiting for the ominous "Crucio!" but it didn't happen, mainly because Harry had just scratched Voldemort across the face. "Ahhhrgss!" Voldemort shrieked. Strangely, no one in the room seemed at all concerned for their Master. Draco perked up, Lucius smiled quietly, and Snape felt like giving the cat the House Cup. "This meeting is over!" Voldemort thundered. With the elegant statement, the Dark Lord stormed out the door. One Bellatrix Lestrage quietly followed him, after making sure her husband wasn't looking of course.  
  
Once their Immortal Lord was out of the room, all the Death Eaters relaxed. Most of them felt like giving that moggy a big fish.  
  
Meanwhile, in Voldemort's chambers, the Dark Lord was preparing to have a hot bath. Unfortunately, Harry's paws wouldn't reach the bathroom door knob. The Dark Lord took his cloak off. Harry started to panic. Of course, technically he'd seen Voldemort naked before, but that time there had been smoke coming out of the cauldron, so he hadn't seen much, but imagination is a marvellous thing.  
  
Voldemort started removing his robes. Harry closed his eyes. He heard a splash. opened one eye. The Dark Lord's slimy, white torso was sinking into the water. Harry meowed a sigh of relief.  
  
Harry jumped up onto the bathroom chair, preparing to go to sleep. Suddenly a piece of foam hit Harry in the face. A cold, high-pitched titter issued from the bath. For the next ten minutes Harry was forced to endure soap bubbles, 'Mrs. Peachpear's Scale Softener,' and a rubber ducky. Harry was scarred for life, Voldemort was truly insane.  
  
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "My Lord," Harry heard a woman's sing-song voice. "May I come in, you sexy serpent!" Harry felt like vomiting. The handle turned. Harry's paws didn't want to work. His bones changed.  
  
Bellatrix screamed. There was a naked Harry Potter in the room! Voldemort stood up. Harry screamed. Then he pushed Bellatrix into the Dark Lord, sending them both sprawling into the bath.  
  
Harry ran for the door as fast as he could.  
  
Draco was still nervous- he'd been told to wait outside His Master's rooms for his. *initiation.*  
  
Harry opened the door, preparing to leg it down the hallway. Then a rather surprised voice said to The Boy Who Was Starkers, "So. err you too, huh?" 


	3. The Voldesnort Chistmas Carol

**Three Bloody Mary's and a Double Scotch on the Rocks**

**The Voldesnort Christmas Carol**

****

**Disclaimer:**

Merry Christmas! Show some seasonal good cheer by believing me that I don't own this. I did write to Santa and ask for the Harry Potter rights but, no such luck! So unless JKR would like to give me a VERY nice present, I don't own this. 

****

**Author's Note:**

Well… this is what you might call the Christmas special. I looked at the story and thought, Hmmm… I've put _snow _in the first chapter so there must be room for Christmas, right? Well… here's your present! Oh and warning to anyone who likes any of the characters in Harry Potter- They will ALL be trashed!! Mwahahaha!! Oh, you'll need to have heard Snoopy's Christmas/Christmas Bells, to get the joke at the end.  

Harry turned to Draco. "What do you mean, 'me too'?" he asked. Draco looked uncomfortable. "You mean you're not… you haven't?" He pulled a face. "That's _sick,_ Potter, really sick! I mean he's _scaly!" _

Before Harry's brain had time to work out what Malfoy meant, they both heard a screeching coming from the locked door. Harry snatched Draco's wand, _not that one, sick people, and twirled it in the air, "Accio wand!" he shouted. Now this could have gone very badly for someone if Harry had indeed summoned what you __sick people were referring to, but luckily, Harry's wand shot out and landed in his hand. _Not that one… idiots.__

Just then, Voldemort (bubbles sliding off his hastily shoved on robes) opened the door with a crash and shot a spell at Harry, while Harry, most unfortunately, shot a spell at the Dark Lord at _exactly the same time. Now usually__, usually this would be the queue for the props guy to lay on the phoenix sound effects and fairy lights, but as Harry and Voldemort had both sent the first spell they could think of (the cute cat one) speeding on its merry way, it didn't._

Instead, a very rare effect took place. This effect only takes place when to people with identical wand cores cast identical spells at each other. It's called Priori Id. (Phoenix lights not included)

Voldemort stared at Harry, Harry stared at Voldemort. Draco held his breath. Voldemort was the first to scream. "ARRHHHH!!!" he yelled in a hoarse, boyish voice. "EEEEEKKK!!!" Harry replied, in a cold, high voice.  

Harry fainted, or Voldemort did, depending on your point of view.

 "Well…" "Harry" began. Then he looked at Draco. Malfoy Junior was staring up at a space approximately eleven inches to the right of "Harry's" head. "Harry" turned round, and then wished he hadn't.

_"Mister Potter…" _a nasty, greasy voice whispered for behind a black mask. "Have you misplaced something?" 

Harry was taken aback. "Nonsense Snape," he said briskly, "Just help me pull my robes off that sleeping ninny and I'll go and finish my bath." 

Snape's jaw dropped, so did Draco's. "W-what did you say, Potter?" Snape managed, as Harry Potter started pulling Voldemort's robes off. 

"Be quiet, Snape, you might wake him up!" This was said with such sarcasm that Draco flinched. Malfoy leaned towards Snape. "He's just been _initiated, I mean, he was already mental, but I think he's finally lost it." Draco whispered to his Head of House. _

"I _heard _that, young Malfoy!" Harry hissed. He whipped out his wand and sent a Cruciatus Curse zooming towards Draco. Soon _two_ people were on the floor unconscious. 

Snape was still struggling. "Er… Potter… how did you…?" Harry was tugging the Dark Lord's boxers off. He put them on, and then he turned to Snape. "Haven't you realized yet, you ninny! I'm Voldemort!" 

The Potions Master had to admit it, Potter had finally gone potty. _"Expelliarmus!" he cried and deftly caught Harry's wand. "Now Potter, we are going back to Hogwarts and __you are going to explain yourself to the Headmaster!" _

Dumbledore stared hard at Harry. "Would you like a lemon drop, Harry?" he asked in the kind voice of someone who knows that the other person is much less intelligent then them. Harry looked back at Dumbledore with an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Well you see, Harry, all the other students have gone home for he Christmas holidays, except you. Perhaps, you would like to go back to Grimauld Place, both Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are there."

Harry wondered where that was and who those children were. Then he realised where Dumbledore must be talking about. A big, happy smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, yes please!"

Voldemort woke up. Someone had moved him back to the bed with the silky black sheets and he could feel someone stroking his bare chest. A man was talking.

"… My poor little snaky-poo! He always gets away doesn't he? But it's not _your _fault" he added quickly, realising that this sentence could be taken the wrong way be his little psychotic "snaky-poo." 

"What…" Voldemort said blearily, blinking his livid red eyes. The man started to give him a massage. "Oh dear, he knocked you around a bit, didn't he, master? Some kiddies have no respect…"

The Dark Lord forced his cat-like pupils to focus. A small, ratty, balding man was giving him a chest massage. _"Wormtail?" _he said in a high-pitched voice that wasn't cold exactly, but he made up for it by sounding as if he'd been locked in the freezer for two hours.

Peter Pettigrew's fingers stopped moving. "Oh no… looks like a blow to the head…" Voldemort, who was a bit quicker on the uptake than the real one, realized what had happened. He reached for a bag of lies.

"Wormtail!" he said in a nasty, falsetto voice (that sounded quite authentic) "get your dirty paws off my um… chest!" Peter scurried away, looking frightened. Voldemort stretched, wondering what to do. "Don't look in any mirrors!" a little voice inside his head warned.

Hermione ran towards Harry. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're OK! What happened? Ron says that you tried to sneak off to a pub!" A mass of bushy brown hair came flying towards Harry at a run and flung itself around him. "I was so _worried!" _

Harry managed to disentangle himself from the giant fur-ball. A lanky red-headed youth stood beside her (he assumed it was a her) and looked sheepish. 

"Missed you mate," the boy said. "You won't believe this but…" The hairy girl-thing interrupted. "I've organised us to go carolling! For S.P.E.W! We can buy them warm clothes for winter! Ron's coming, aren't you Ron?" The lanky boy made a vomiting sound.

"Spew?" Harry said stupidly. "_Harry!" _said the hair reproachfully, "It's S-P-E-W!" The lanky boy made more vomiting sounds. Harry was suddenly unsure of what to say. "Well, Harry, you'll come, won't you?" the hairy thing pleaded. "Um… sure…" said Harry uncertainly.

Voldemort sunk back into his bath. The water had gone a bit cold but there were quite a few bubbles left. Voldemort found he was in quite a playful mood. "Me-me-mememe!" he sang, trying out the acoustics. To his surprise, the sound was about three octaves higher than his normal voice. He tried a simple song.

_"Hark! The Herald angels sing,_

_Glory to the new born King!_

_Peace on earth and mercy mild,_

_God and sinner reconciled!"_

The woman who was waiting for a pause in the serenade to make her second entrance in "Voldy's bath-take 2" listened in horror along with several nearby Death Eaters, to the sweet sound of an innocent Christmas carol sung by a bad _acuta-soprano, in a throat that certainly didn't believe in "peace" and even less in "mercy mild." The overall effect was that of a squeaky tin whistle trying to temp fate._

Voldemort meanwhile, had moved on…

_"Grandma got run over by a reindeer,_

_Walking out from our house, Christmas Eve!_

_Some folks say there's no such thing as Santa,_

_But as for me n' Grandpa, we believe!" _

"Who's the handsomest wizard in the universe?" Lucius asked the mirror. Unbeknownst to him, a thousand fan-girls answered "You are, my dear!" As it was, it was only the mirror. The mirror was in love with "Lucy darling" and the sad fact was that Lucius was in love with the mirror, but not for the right reasons. 

Lucius, who was in the room next to the Voldemort's bathroom, stopped brushing his hair. He felt that the current tune expressed more of the Dark Lord's sadism. But it lacked something in the melody. He wondered idly where that cute little Persian cat had gone. It'd probably fled in terror in the face of Voldemort's singing.

Lucius shrugged, and kept brushing.

Harry, meanwhile, had been drafted into charitable work against his will. Most of the Weasley family and the Order of the Phoenix had been press-ganged by the hairy thing, into doing what she referred to as "Some good Christmas charity work," everyone else called it "The House-Elves Revenge."

"Alright," said the Hairy-girl, "Once more before we go!"

There was a collective deep breath. 

_"We wish you a merry Christmas,_

_We wish you a merry Christmas,_

_We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!"_

This was belted out with such sarcasm that it really ought to have won prizes. Apparently the tune was frightened of Moody, because it wasn't anywhere near him, the Weasley twins' voices were dripping with malice, Tonks had a good voice but didn't seem to remember the words and Snape was singing in a baritone that would've sounded quite nice singing opera, but sounded out of place in the discord reigning here. Everyone else just scraped through with a 'T'.  

"That's great!" clapped the brown hairy thing. "Let's go!"

Harry felt it was very surreal. People kept giving them money to go away. But the thing, called Hermione apparently, didn't seem to realise the business sense in this. 

"Just try harder, guys, for S.P.E.W!" 

Everyone groaned. Harry, to his surprise, felt quite a lot of sympathy with the Order- they were simply awful. He tugged up his pants. Voldemort's boxers were too big for him and he didn't want anyone to see Harry Potter in silky Dark Mark shorts.  

Voldemort dried himself with a big fluffy black towel, before wrapping it around his lower half and opening the door. It hit someone in the head.

"Ow!" wailed Bella. Voldemort looked at her and shut the door again. Then he opened it in her face before she had time to say "Merry Christmas, you sexy serpent!" which was, in fact, what she was going to say.

"That's for Sirius!" The Dark Lord yelled, slamming the door into her again. "…And that, and that, and that!"

"My Lord…" came the voice of Mr. Malfoy, "What are you doing?" 

The Dark Lord took a deep breath and looked into Lucius's recently plucked eyebrows. "Erm… why are you wearing a green dress, Malfoy?" he said, at a loss.

"What… oh this? Er… well Narcissa thought it'd be er… My Lord, did you hear something?" 

"No,"

"I was sure I heard, wait I hear it…"

Distantly, from outside, came a terrible sound …

_"Christmas Spells those Christmas Spells!_

_Ringing through the land,_

_Asking peace of all the world,_

_And goodwill to man!"_

"It's coming from the front door!" Lucius screamed, tripping over Bellatrix. "Quick, get the others!" Voldemort whispered in a breathless voice.

They had gone all round the neighbourhood and had come back to No. 12 Grimauld Place. They halted across the road in front of No. 13.

"OK, guys, remember what we're doing this for? To free elves from slavery! So let's sing the muggle song I taught you, nice and loud!"

_"Christmas Spells those Christmas Spells!_

_Ringing through the land,_

_Asking peace of all the world,_

_And goodwill to man!"_

It was a muggle song Hermione had taught them, when you'd lived through the blitz you didn't like songs about flying dogs fighting the Red Baron. Harry didn't get it. He wanted to go inside and do some serious damage.

The Death Eaters tumbled out of the door to No. 13, one of them was wearing a dress. The Order of the Phoenix, realizing camouflage was their only hope, kept signing in a dreadful wail-

_"The Baron made Snoopy,_

_Fly to the _Rhine___,_

_And forced him to land behind the enemy lines…"_

The Dark Lord was certain that this was the end, when the real one cried out, "Merry Christmas, my friend!"

A/N- Do, dum, dum, do, de, dum da de! 

  __


End file.
